SEPTEMBER 21, 1998:
As far as coming-of-age comedies go, Slums of Beverly Hills holds
its own in mining the rich grounds of all the yuckiness and mysterious
goings-on of down there. But Slums also has a bittersweetness
lingering in there somewhere; it has to do with pinpointing that
time in a kids (or adults) life when he or she realizes certain
truths about their life and still have the pure nobility to fight
against it anyway. In some ways, Slums harks back to the mid-Eighties
John Hughes films  only a more cynical John Hughes film, where
the heroine has seen a thing or two.

In this case, the hardened Molly Ringwald is one Vivian Abramowitz,
played by the appealing Natasha Lyonne (Everyone Says I Love You).
The year is 1976, and Vivian is 15 and every parents worst fear.
Its not that Vivian doesnt have a good head on her shoulders.
In fact, shes wise beyond her years. Trouble is, her chest is
beyond her years, too  shes a veritable boob prodigy weighing
in at cup-size C.

Now any girl would be self-conscious about such a sudden growth
spurt. For Vivian, the matter is made worse by the cramped and
dingy quarters she shares with her brothers (one younger and one
older). Not to mention that her father, Murray (Alan Arkin), refers
to her as stacked. All of this is exacerbated by the fact that
her father, divorced and older than the usual dad, keeps moving
them around at the dead of night to avoid paying the rent, all
the while preaching about the trappings of living within the 90210
zip code no matter how dumpy the place is.

What Vivian needs is some female influence. What she gets is Rita
(Marisa Tomei). Rita is a 29-year-old rehab escapee who wields
a vibrator and has to borrow her young cousins urine for her
first day in nursing school, though nursing school is more or
less just a front so that Rita and Murray can get money out of
Murrays better-off brother (and Ritas father).

Meanwhile, Vivian has hooked up with Eliot (Kevin Corrigan), her
neighbor who is a Charles Manson expert and who is given the responsibility
of being Vivians practice guy. She lets him feel her up and so
on to see what its like, but beyond that, she tells him their
relationship is just a building thing.

Slums of Beverly Hills is the first full-length feature for writer/director
Tamara Jenkins, who dipped into her own experiences as a child
of divorce growing up poor in Beverly Hills in the Seventies.
The humor comes from the constant indignities Vivian has to face,
in which the family bond is stressed to a point of creepy closeness.
Her father takes her to get her first bra and then makes her wear
said bra with a halter top. At the same time, her older brother
has no problem pointing out Vivians attributes, sometimes while
wearing nothing but briefs. At times the situation breaks out
into slapsticky zaniness with accompanying wacky music. And even
as the humor falls predictably beneath the belt, it works within
the confines of Lyonnes sympathetic performance and the efforts
of a strong supporting cast.

It works to such a degree that youre left wondering whatever
became of Vivian. Now, 22 years later, is she dealing with her
own hyper-blossoming daughter?

Given director John Dahls past work, most notably the wickedly
cool The Last Seduction, his latest effort,
Rounders, feels conspicuously square. The snappy lingo is there
as well as a handful of shady characters, but it doesnt matter.
Rounders is blindingly bright, where The Last Seduction was appropriately
dark so as to put its seaminess in its proper place. Part of this
may lie in the casting of Matt Damon in the lead. With his golden
hair cut just so, his preppy clothes, and his class-president
smile, he looks as squeaky clean as an altar boy and not like
someone who rubs elbows with the sorts whose livelihoods mean
they sleep through the daylight hours.

That said, Rounders isnt half bad.

Damon plays Mike, a guy with a hard-knocks childhood whose talent
at poker earns him his tuition to law school. But one of those
games, in a seedy, hidden-away establishment, leaves him minus
$30,000, so he calls it quits to live a straight-up life with
a real job and his perfectly legit girlfriend Jo (Gretchen Mol).

Nine months later, Mike gets drawn back in when his old buddy
Worm (Edward Norton) comes calling. Worm is a friend from way
back, a person for whom  despite a character that earns him the
nickname  Mike has fierce loyalty. The loyalty goes beyond giving
Worm a ride back into the city from prison. When Worm needs some
start-up funds, Mike gives it to him, and when he needs Mikes
help in cleaning out a few rich suckers in a card game, Mike gives
that, too. Mike gives Worm everything, while Worm gives Mike nothing
but trouble.

The trouble is a debt of 25 grand that Worm owes to Teddy KGB
(a cartoonish John Malkovich), a Russian card shark with little
patience and a taste for Oreo cookies. To earn the money, Mike
and Worm go on a two-day card-playing spree. Mike doesnt want
any problems, preferring to play without cheating. Worm, on the
other hand, cant resist the quick kill of the rounder or hustler.

The result of Mike and Worms mad dash for cash nets them two
busted-up faces and empty pockets, so Mike makes an all-or-nothing
attempt at saving his ass by facing the man who took away his
$30,000 with a sweep of his arm  Teddy KGB.

Rounders is basically a con-man film that glorifies the skill
of making a quick buck. The choice of poker as the grift takes
the viewer past doors with those small, sliding windows and into
smoky rooms with mesh cages. Its a world, even when its above-board,
thats unfamiliar to nine-to-fivers. While Rounders never really
nails the lure of poker, it is successful in capturing the tension
that causes a nervous sweat  its in the reading of another mans
tics, in the hesitation of throwing in more chips, and in the
slow, card-bending revelation of a hand.